The lesson today is practice;
The practical practicing sort
Where two partners engage in combat
With their gauntlets, their scythes, and their swords.
Some, more excited than others;
Some, more prepared for the duel.
But none are more ready to tangle
Than Ruby, the red-headed fool.
She's long since regretted
Having lost her one chance
To twirl with Weiss, her beloved,
At Beacon's festival dance.
"Ah," she sighs, her voice yet a dream,
"Crescent Rose, how you chime!"
Weiss sighs next in vexation.
"Ruby, we must be on time.
"Of course! Of course!"
She giggles with glee.
"Prepare yourself!" she cries.
"Today it's just you and me~!"
Weiss rolls her eyes;
Ruby's a capable fighter,
But she loses every duel.
What would it take to remind her?
That today's lesson is a tool?
"Isn't it romantic?" Her partner admires.
"Isn't what romantic?" Weiss is incredulous.
"A dance with you is all I've desired."
"Ruby, this isn't a pageant. It's combat."
"But Ozpin once said, 'If you think about it,
'Fighting and dancing aren't so different.'"
Weiss has to admire the footwork, the grit…
But in the end, a fight is to be won
Or be lost, to inevitably fall.
"I don't see the romance."
"Don't worry. Just give it your all!"
"Save the giggles for your first success."
"Two partners, interlocked," Ruby muses.
"A clash of two souls, a battle of wills…"
There is naught left to teach her except for the bruises.
Soon come the sounds of battle,
The clashing of steel,
As the pair makes their entrance
To the duelist's wheel.
"They've already begun,"
Weiss says with a groan.
"But, oh! Look, what fun!"
Ruby spins on her heel.
"Shall we begin?" Miss Rose offers,
Unfurling her scythe.
"I accept your challenge."
Miss Schnee doth preside.
Two partners, interlocked;
The clashing of steel
Leaves Ruby to wonder
If it all could be real.
Weiss lunges, recedes.
Ruby whirls on a dime,
Swings her scythe wide;
Weiss only guards just in time.
The thrill is euphoric.
Does Weiss not feel the same?
She wishes to explore it
Till the end of their game.
"You had better be taking this seriously!"
That unmistakable grin
Leaves Weiss feeling hopeless
Despite knowing she'll win.
Parry. Riposte.
Her strike would be true
If not for the petals
That used to be you.
Weiss has seen this trick before.
Ruby's speed, pure artistry.
Weiss follows her movements,
Red petals a tapestry.
Yet overeager, as always,
Ruby rushes too soon.
Weiss pins her cloak to the ground,
Makes her look the buffoon.
And thus the end of the ruckus.
"Match point: Weiss Schnee!"
Ruby laughs at Weiss' admonishment:
"That win felt too free."
Ruby laughs and she laughs,
Spins again on her heel.
"I was free as could be.
That win was a steal."
What would it take to show to her love
The beauty of her form?
Not just the grace, nor the power,
But the life become storm?
"One day, perhaps," Ruby grins.
Weiss scoffs. "Perhaps,"
Thinking she had meant the win.
But Ruby's mind is doing laps
Through her memories of the bout.
Her love so profound,
She knocks shoulders with her partner;
"Wanna go another round?"